“I picked you boys for several reasons. Slim has done a couple of little jobs for me over near Sunfield and I know he’s got a good head and a cool one. In addition, he’s a dead shot with a six gun. Chuck’s a fine rider and the best man with a rifle I’ve seen in many a year. Slim, your temper is likely to flash a bit too hot at times, but I figure that Chuck being a little slower to fly off the handle will kind of keep a check on you. In other words, you’re my idea of the right kind of a team to send into the Creeping Shadows country and ferret out these rustlers.”
Slim looked across the fire at Chuck, carefully appraising the cowboy from the Circle Four. He had liked Chuck from the very first.
“What do you think about it?” he asked.
“I don’t much like being shot at without warning,” said Chuck, “so you can count me in to see this thing through. I’ve a pretty strong hunch we’ll find the fellows that gave me the lead greeting tangled up with this gang of rustlers.”
“And I’m still mad about Lightning being stolen,” added Slim. “Looks like both of us have a debt to repay those birds in the Creeping Shadows. Count me in.”
“Me too,” added Chuck heartily.
Old Bill smiled broadly. He had felt sure that these youngsters would come through. He reached over to the nearby woodpile and tossed a couple of large sticks on the flames. The fire brightened, chasing the shadows away from the men stretched on the blankets.
“Don’t make a mistake and think this is going to be an easy job,” cautioned Old Bill. “You’ll have to do plenty of hard work and a lot of tough riding. You’re going into this thing alone. Not even Adam Marks will know who you are.”
“Why not?” asked Slim.
“He knew that the other men I sent in were detectives. They never came back.”